Chapter 25: Lustful Ending to a Lavish Lunch

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Several spiderweb cracks sprouted to life across the wall of the hotel as the door slammed into it violently, trembling upon impact. Mammon stumbled through the doorway with Samara still in his arms, with her legs slung around his waist and his lips ravaging hers, one heel dangling treacherously off of her toes.

Clumsily, he staggered forward, kicking it shut again just as aggressively, which nearly splintered the wood. He took no notice and for once had no concern as to the repair cost, the cost of this luxurious room, or any cost for that matter. It was too much effort to think when Samara tugged one of his hat tails roughly to keep his face close to hers. Chuckling at her enthusiasm, he made it to the bed and dislodged her, throwing her with a force that scooted the bed frame back across the freshly polished floor and caused the entire thing to bounce with her impact.

When she raised herself up onto her knees on the plush scarlet comforter and began slipping that sheer dress from her slender figure, he stopped her with a shake of his head, doing his utmost to control himself. If he ended up damaging her too much, she'd repair of course, but it would cut the fun short and he intended to savor this rare treat. He had no idea what was causing this shift in her personality, although he had his suspicions that she was motivated by some ulterior motives, but he was going to enjoy her nonetheless while it lasted. If she thought she could use him, then he'd use her right back and wring every last ounce of pleasure he could from her while he was at it.

"Ah-ah-aaahhhh! I want to do that."

He all but ripped his clothes off and chucked them into the corner, shattering a vase in the process. He tackled her, pinning her arms above her head and sinking his teeth deep into her collarbone, grinding into her when she cried out in pain.

"I don't know what games you think you're playing at, or what you're after—" he started, but she silenced him by squeezing her legs around him, tight enough to trap his rigid length between them and put a delicious pressure on it.

He could feel the heat between her thighs threatening to melt his bits right off, and he couldn't help his breath coming in short pants.

"—All I'm after right now is this. So, why don't you save the threats for when you're buried to the base inside me? I'm too hungry to stand the teasing, Mammon."

She pouted up at him cutely.

He growled and tore her dress and underwear off in one inhumanly strong motion. They wasted no time with niceties or foreplay, instead he drove himself deep into her core with no hesitation. Samara screamed his name, and the sound echoed off the walls, mixing with his periodic pants and groans in a delicious reverberation of carnal delight.

"You're such a hot little piece, and the best damned assistant a demon could ask for! I don't know how I'd manage without you, and without this. You're really the best Sammy dear."

The confession slipped out of him and into her snowy hair with his face buried into her neck as it was. In his haze, he failed to realize what precisely he'd revealed.

Samara's eyes bugged. Her boss had only ever mentioned repeatedly how disposable she was to keep her in line should she have any thoughts of disobedience. How many times had he told her that with a snap of his fingers, he could have hundreds of other women at his beck and call? Some of whom were much stronger and more experienced with Hell's goings-on. He'd been acting so strangely today since they had arrived at Ozzie's. The words danced around her mind even as it fogged over as an orgasm reared its head within her, rising up to drag her into dark, velvety bliss.

Mammon felt Samara's walls clench and pulse around him and smiled wide from ear to ear. It only faltered for a moment when he leaned his head back and spied a darkening on her rosy flesh, right below her ear. His temper flared. Hmm, that had come from one of two sources outside of himself. One of his jesters had gone and marked his property! He let her keep writhing beneath his attentions, clasping her hands over his ass to pull him deeper inside and whispering sweet nothings of how good he made her feel, all the while painfully oblivious to the truth that he was already well aware of.

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